


Troy

by Leoanda



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Beach battles, Love, Multi, Troy - Freeform, War, god worship, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leoanda/pseuds/Leoanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by pilka3331's idea for a Teen Wolf and Troy crossover.</p><p>The Black Wolf is called upon to join the Argent Army in a historic fight to take down the indestructible Troy and take back the Argent Princess. But what is the cost of the fight? And what will become of the people of Troy?</p><p>This is based off the movie but it will veer and twist here and there, so don't tune out just yet!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS, NOR DO I OWN TROY OR THE SONG “Remember Me” BY JAMES HORNER, CYNTHIA WEIL AND JOSH GROBAN.
> 
> The song 'Remember Me' will be used as a page cut.
> 
> This is just part one, which is inspired by pilka3331's pic on deviantart.com. The link is here: http://pilka3331.deviantart.com/art/You-are-my-peace-372328830
> 
> Thank you!

**Troy**

**Part 1**

The dirt underneath his sandal clad feet is dried and cracked almost like sand except it is coloured too dark. The dried land expands a great distance here and at one end stands a foreign army all clad in shining armour and blue clothing. At the other end, just behind him stands his own army, the armour not as bright but just as strong and with dust brown clothing sitting underneath.

In the centre of the two armies, King Paradith watches his best soldier – a great hulk of a man full of muscles and iron strength – fight only to lose within a few moments.

The foreign army cheers its win, and Paradith knows that the loss will kill him in the end, even if he thanks the Gods that it will spare his men’s lives. His General’s mouth is turned down, and Paradith sighs heavily wishing the Black Wolf did not fight at all, but knowing he always will.

“As agreed,” Paradith spoke with all the dignity of his years and all the sadness of his loss. Offering the beautifully carved ivory horn, Paradith held his most prized possession out to the Black Wolf. “This is the symbol of my people, a symbol of leadership and heart. Give this to your King and know that he now holds my country and my people within his hands.”

“He is not my King.”

Startled, Paradith blinked before raising one brow.

“Then why fight for him?”

“Because he paid me.”

~*~*~ _Remember, I will still be here_ ~*~*~

The party was in full swing, and Jackson was trying his hardest to stay polite and respectful while King Gerard blatantly ignored him in favour of dragging a young girl onto hips lap with a lewd smile. Dragging his anger back under control, Jackson reminded himself that his wife back in Troy, Lydia, would skin him alive if he was rude in any way, and that he _had_ to keep the peace treaty intact.

It was a shame he couldn’t say the same for his brother, Scott, who was somewhere private doing something that he most certainly wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“Allison?”

“You shouldn’t be here, Scott. If Gerard found you here, he’d kill you and end the treaty with Troy,” she spoke softly pushing lightly at his chest as the young man wrapped his arms around her.

“He won’t. You’re wearing the necklace I gave you,” Scott grinned before he started kissing her neck just under where the necklace lay. Letting his hands caress her hips and pulling her more firmly against him, Allison smiled and lightly giggling when he lapped at her skin.

“Maybe I should be wearing _only_ the necklace, if you’re not going to stop,” she moaned.

“Definitely.”

Unclasping her dress, Allison let it fall to the floor so it pooled at her feet, before she untied Scott’s armour. Grinning at one another they fell into bed.

~*~*~ _As long as you hold me, in your memory_ ~*~*~

“I thank Poseidon for the calm waters and Aeolus for the strong wind so that we might return home soon,” Jackson spoke, grinning at the vast waters surrounding their ship as they ventured home.

“As do I. Tell me, do you love me, brother?” Scott asked, almost timid.

“What did you do now?” the other Prince sighed.

“What makes you think I did something?” the dark haired teen asked, giving wounded eyes like a kicked puppy.

“Because you only ask if I love you when you’ve done something that you think I’m going to kill you for – which I probably will,” Jackson grinned giving a light punch to his brother’s arm.

“You just might, yet,” Scott said into the wind, not returning the grin as he usually would.

“What exactly have you done, brother?” the brunette asked, sombre now.

“Come, it’s better that I show you.”

Moving to the other end of the ship, Scott almost casually tugged at the rope knots that gave entry to the storage space beneath the soldiers and sailors walking about. Quickly climbing down the small set of ladders Jackson followed somewhat curious and suspicious of what he was to find.

With only a grim look passed between them, Scott made his way to one of the corners of the cabin area holding out his hand. To Jackson’s surprise and anger, a gentle hand grasped onto his brothers and was followed by a beautiful woman looking in both shyness and fear.

“What have you done?”

“I couldn’t leave her there,” Scott argued.

“Yes. You could. And now you’ve condemned us to war! What were you thinking? What were _you_ thinking?” Jackson pointed angrily at the Princess.

“I love him. And I couldn’t stay another day with them! I hate Gerard and he’ll make me marry for his own gain!” Allison objected not letting herself be cowed.

“I don’t care _who_ you marry as long as it doesn’t start a war! Which _this_ has!” Putting a hand to his head, the brunette sat down on a crate wondering at the stupidity of his brother. “We must turn the ship around.”

“No! He’ll kill her!” Scott cried.

“He’ll kill us both,” Allison spoke softly. She grasped onto Scott’s arm tightly, imploring with Jackson through her eyes, trying to show how much she needed to be on this ship.

“You know I love you, Scott, but I can’t watch our people die for her.”

“I love her, as much as I love you, or mother, or Lydia, or Stiles! I couldn’t let her stay there, I couldn’t!” Hooking his free hand in Jacksons, the darker skinned Prince pleaded his heart.

“Then you will fight beside me when the war calls to our walls,” Jackson sighed. Looking pointedly at Allison now, he regarded her with a warning in his voice. “All the deaths to come are on you. Do not forget that, sister.”

“I won’t, brother.”

~*~*~ _Remember, when you’re dreams have ended_ ~*~*~

Slamming the metal chalice onto the table, the red wine spilled over, a red as angry as Kate’s hatred.

“They have taken her!” She shouted, glaring heatedly at the entire table.

“Then we shall get her back,” Gerard replied calmly, sipping from his own chalice. He sat at the head of the table smiling as though a feast was being given in his honour and he was only faintly surprised by it.

“How can you be so calm, father? My niece, _your_ granddaughter, has been taken by the Trojan’s, and you sit there so calmly?” Kate raged. Her long blonde hair had been tied back with silver clips so that it fell in a wave of sunlight behind her.

“I am calm because my stupid and love-stricken granddaughter has just given us the war we have always wanted. This peace treaty was for your brother’s sake. _He_ was the one who wanted peace. But now that his only child has been stolen, he will want her back. And Troy shall finally bend to _our_ will,” the King grinned, waving his hand in dismissal of his own granddaughter.

“Will he go to war, then?” Kate asked, slightly weary. Chris was known for being kind and charismatic, he was a good General and tended towards peace rather than war, so she could not be so certain.

“He will. Allison is his only child, and since he will not remarry, she will remain his only child, so he _must_ go to war. For _her_.”

“We’ll need help,” the Princess smirked.

“Then get it.”

Nodding, Kate rose gracefully knowing that her little pet Hale would need leashing once more and that the greatest war yet was about to occur.

~*~*~ _Time can be transcended_ ~*~*~

“You need to be faster!” The Black Wolf shouted.

Rolling to the side, Erica threw herself at Isaac’s torso pushing him to the ground with her weight. In turn he rolled with her pushing her off and to the side, narrowly evading Cora who had come up behind him. Slamming the wooden sword to the ground, Cora missed her target and instead changed her course sweeping her feet under Erica’s and using her free hand to push herself back into a standing position.

Grinning widely, Erica flipped over the younger girl’s feet and grabbed at the fist which Boyd was sending her way. Sliding in-between the dark man’s legs, she pulled herself up behind him planting her own wooden sword against his back.

“Dead!” She giggled.

“And so are you!” Isaac grinned planting the tip of his own sword at the side of her neck.

“Good! But you all still need to work on your speed. Your enemy won’t hold still while you flip back and forth,” The Black Wolf instructed.

“Hey! Isn’t that an Argent ship?” Cora spoke, pointing off towards the sea beyond their training grounds.

“Not again,” Erica sighed. They had just returned from a battle not too long ago.

“Where to now, do you think?” Boyd asked coming to stand beside the youngest.

“Where ever they want to send me,” The Black Wolf sighed.

“She can’t hold onto you forever, can she?” Isaac asked, pawing at his left gauntlet lightly.

“Not forever, no. But for the time being. And there isn’t much I can do about it. If she calls, I _have_ to answer.” Sighing sadly, The Black Wolf knew that his little pack would follow him regardless of where he was sent next. They were pack, which meant family. And _this_ family always stuck together.

“Let’s just try to end it quickly,” Cora spoke with no energy in her voice. Wrapping an arm around her, The Black Wolf smiled sadly.

“Yes. Let’s.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS, NOR DO I OWN TROY OR THE SONG “Remember Me” BY JAMES HORNER, CYNTHIA WEIL AND JOSH GROBAN.
> 
> The song 'Remember Me' will be used as a page cut.
> 
> This is just part one, which is inspired by pilka3331's pic on deviantart.com. The link is here: http://pilka3331.deviantart.com/art/You-are-my-peace-372328830
> 
> I'm so so so so so sorry for the delay! I was going to get this up much sooner, but life happened!
> 
> Thank you to all readers, reviewers and Kudos leavers! It's always appreciated!
> 
> Thank you!

**Troy**

**Part 2**

White ribbons and confetti fluttered prettily from the windows and rooftops of the city of Troy as the great gates opened to the return of two of Troy’s Princes. The streets were filled with cheering people, all dancing and singing and laughing as the white and gold leafed chariot made its way through the streets followed by the stallions and men on foot – who had gone to secure the treaty with the Argents. Allison’s half-smile masked her utter weariness as the Trojan’s cheered her holding Scott’s hand as they stood in the chariot wheeling its way towards the palace. Scott smiled back giving only a brief glance behind them at Jackson riding a pure black stallion.

For his part, Jackson kept a stiff smile on his face for the crowd while his eyes showed his unease as they met with Scott’s for a brief moment. It only took a short time to reach the large steps which led up to the public statehouse where the King Stilinski of Troy and his second wife Queen Melissa stood surrounded with the Trojan Generals and Commanders in full formation. Tapping lightly with his knees so that his horse came to a complete stop, Jackson dismounted handing the reigns over to one of the page boys standing to one side before coming to stand with his brother and Princess Allison.

Taking the steps together, the cheers grew louder and it became more apparent to the returning royals that the King and Queen were both overjoyed and confused at the sight of the Princess. Rolling his eyes Jackson let his eyes wonder to the woman standing just to the side and behind the King and Queen. Immediately his heart jumped at the wry smile on his wife’s face. Her strawberry locks were tied back with small golden ties and a single gold circlet around her forehead.

Taking the final step, Jackson, Scott and Allison each bowed in turn. Arms outstretched, King Stilinski embraced Jackson with a wide smile.

“You bring great tidings with you I hope,” the King grinned.

Smiling back softly, Jackson merely shook his head. “We’re about to see.”

Standing back the light haired Prince let his younger brother embrace their father while he turned to embrace his wife. Scott held onto the King tightly after embracing his mother.

“Please let me introduce you. This is Princess Allison,” the darker skinned Prince bowed holding onto the dark haired Princesses hand for the King to take.

“Princess Allison of Argent?” Melissa asked.

“Of Troy,” Scott replied, trying to convey to them just what Allison meant to him.

“Ah, of Troy. Welcome then, Allison of Troy,” the King smiled at her kissing each of her cheeks. “Come, let’s get into the coolness of the shadow so that we can discuss your travels more.”

Nodding, Melissa took her husband’s arm smiling brightly at her new daughter as they led the way into the statehouse. Kissing Allison’s hand, Scott sent her a reassuring smile.

“Your home now, my love.”

“Yes, but at what cost?” She replied.

“A worthy one, if what Jackson is telling me is true,” Lydia smiled. The hazel eyed woman assessed the new Princess with a solid glance before smiling even brighter. “Well, we’ll find out in a minute anyway.”

“In a minute? What do you mean?” the brunette inquired.

Grinning at one another, Scott almost began to bounce where he stood as Jackson shook his head lightly. “You’ll see in a moment,” Jackson said in explanation.

“Wha-?”

“You’re back!”

With a light crash, a young brunette man came stumbling into the room, a wide grin on his face as his eyes laid on his two brothers. Rushing into Scott’s open arms the newcomer almost barrelled the Prince over.

“Woah! Not so fast, Stiles!” Scott laughed returning the hug wholeheartedly.

“You two are such children,” Jackson commented pointing at the two.

“And _you’re_ just upset that I didn’t greet you first,” Stiles laughed before he ploughed into Jackson wrapping his arms happily around his second brother.

“Yeah, right,” the lighter haired man scoffed, but he hugged back all the same.

“Stiles!” Scott gasped. “You’re wearing Apollo’s Garb!”

“I told you he’d notice,” Stiles winked at Lydia who merely rolled her eyes in good humour. “Yep! I was accepted while you were away.”

“But, why?”

“Because Apollo gave me my gift. It’s only right that I use it in his name. Besides, I’m not cut out to be a leader, let alone a King,” Stiles smiled warmly.

“But you’re the true Prince. Are you sure it’s okay?” Jackson asked looking slightly weary. Stiles was the only product of the original marriage between the King and his first wife making Stiles the Heir Apparent. The three of them were only brothers through the King’s remarriage to their mother, Melissa, so Jackson and Scott did not hold the true title of Prince even though the entire country addressed them as such.

“Yes, it’s fine! Besides, we’re brothers even if not through blood, and you are both of Troy so it’s not like it’s anything drastic,” Stiles reassured them all. “Oh, and when are you going to introduce me to the third most beautiful woman in the world, Scott?”

“Huh?” Scott intelligently replied.

“You’re wife? Princess Allison of Troy? Ring any bells?”

“Oh! Allison! Of course! Allison this is our brother Prince Stiles, Stiles this is my wife, Allison,” Scott grinned showing the brunette woman off.

Bowing, Allison smiled brightly at Stiles as his infectious grin never left his face and she could see how he had become much loved by his brothers. “It’s an honour, Your Highness.”

“Please, it’s just Stiles, and the honours all mine!” Kissing each of her cheeks in greeting, his eyes unfocused for a moment. “We should eat. I bet you’re all starving.”

“Finally! Some sense out of you!” Lydia smirked pushing his arm lightly before dragging her husband further into the building.

“Hey! I make sense all of the time! I’m just too awesome for you to understand me most of the time!”

~*~*~ _Just remember me_ ~*~*~

Back in the Palace, the three Princes settled themselves in Stile’s old room where they could have some semblance of privacy to talk. Crossing his legs, Stiles waited as Scott lay flat on his old bed and Jackson lounged in the curved and backed chair next to his old desk.

“There’s a war coming,” Stiles started.

“I know,” Scott sighed.

“Have you seen something?” Jackson inquired. It was well known among the Royal Family that Stiles had the gift of foresight, but many did not believe in his gift and it was only until recently that Jackson had been one of them. But having known Stiles since they were ten, too many things had happened which Stiles had foretold had come true for Jackson _not_ to believe in the sight.

“Boats. Lots of boats. And a horse. I don’t know how they’re related yet, but I _do_ know that they both mean war.” Frowning deeply, Stiles fiddled with one corner of his robe while he lightly bit on his lip.

“Either way, it’s not good,” Scott worried. “Is there any way of knowing who’ll win?”

“There’s no way they can get past our walls. We’ve always prevailed on homeland because of them. They’re practically impenetrable,” Jackson snorted crossing his arms. “As long as we don’t let them gain ground, they can’t win.”

“That may be true, brother, but something else is coming with them. I’m not sure what yet, but it is a bad omen of things to come,” Stiles spoke darkly, tapping the floor lightly. “I’m going to pray to Apollo for guidance. There is always a reason I have these visions, so there must be a reason now.”

“This omen… is it linked to the horse?” Jackson inquired.

“No. That’s the thing. I don’t know where the horse comes into it at all, but it isn’t on any of the boats sailing right now.”

“Go then, brother. Say your prayers, and I hope they can bring us something good to look forward to,” Scott smiled.

“You mean like your post-wedding party?” Stiles smirked.

“No!” the other Prince blushed bright red.

“Aww, such a shame! And here I thought we’d celebrate you finally settling down,” Jackson grinned back at them.

“It’s probably a _private_ party, Jackson. We’re not invited,” Stiles said sagely.

“Just… no!”

Laughing at the look on Scott’s face, Stiles lightly pushed himself up and off the floor before waving them goodbye. Once outside his old room, Stiles sighed wistfully. He knew that he couldn’t marry once he had taken the oath, but it didn’t mean he didn’t miss the opportunities that could’ve presented themselves had he remained the Heir Apparent.

But his gift was needed, and it was a heavy burden which he felt his must carry alone.

~*~*~ _I am the one star that keeps burning_ ~*~*~

Driving the _Brotherband_ hard, Derek stood at the prow of the ship watching the beaches of Troy draw nearer. Heaving a great sigh, he wondered just how many men would be lost today, and how many would fall to his sword. He did not enjoy the infamy which the name _Black Wolf_ brought him – although he liked the privacy – but it was his burden to carry until the day he could free himself from the Argent hold.

“What do you think, uncle?” Derek asked the man leaning on the side of the trireme.

“I think we should take their Temple. It’s open and bare, and it’s sacred to them. If we take it, they might lose some of their faith,” the blue eyed man replied.

“And the beach?”

“Let the Argents get the beach. It’s big enough for them to feel like they claimed something,” Peter sneered.

Nodding his agreement, Derek grabbed his helmet before yelling out the orders for the Pack to ready themselves for battle.

~*~*~ _So brightly_ ~*~*~

“What in Poseidon’s name are they doing?” Kate raged. Slamming a fist against the wood of the banister, she watched in anger as the _Brotherband_ pulled ahead of the Argent ships.

“Gearing up for a fight,” Gerard laughed. “Look at the men! They’re getting ready to win!” Swinging on arm out to indicate the other ships, Kate saw that soldiers were, in fact, pulling on their armour and readying their swords.

“Still! What can the _Black Wolf_ hope to achieve by storming the beach by himself? Surely even the Pack have their limits?” Crossing her arms now, Kate fumed at the tiny figure shouting out orders on the _Brotherband_.

“Perhaps. But they _are_ the best. That’s why we secured their loyalty,” the elder Argent spoke trying to placate his only daughter.

“Either way, we must reach the beach moments after they have. Pull ahead you fools! Let’s win this battle before the sun has a chance to fall!” the blonde woman called out, whipping a hand over any oarsman’s head within reach as she stormed down the length of the ship.

~*~*~ _It is the last light_ ~*~*~

**TOCSIN! TOCSIN! TOCSIN! TOCSIN! TOCSIN!**

Whipping his head around, Stiles’ eyes widened in realisation as some of the elder priests stood and ran to the outer doorways.

“Enemies! Soldiers! There are enemy soldiers raiding the beach!” One priest cried in fear.

“Lead everyone out the back way! Get back behind the walls of Troy!” High Priest Deaton commanded.

“High Priest?” Stiles called out softly.

“Yes, child?”

“We’re gonna lose the beach, and many will die today,” the young priest replied in a slight daze. His eyes had clouded slightly, but Stiles was still _here_.

“Then let us make sure that there are less where we can,” Deaton soothed. “You must leave too, Stiles.”

“Not yet,” he replied eyes clearing once more.

~*~*~ _To fade into the rising sun_ ~*~*~

Leaping into the shallow waters of the shore, Derek yanked on the rope pulling the trireme along with his men up onto the beach. Letting the rope fall after a few feet, the _Black Wolf_ scanned the area around where they had landed for enemy soldiers.

“Peter!”

Gaining his uncle’s attention, Derek pointed to a group of soldiers running towards them from the left.

“I’ll take care of it! Cora! Boyd! You’re with me!” Peter shouted before marching expertly towards the twenty enemy men.

“Isaac! Erica! Yours are with me!” Pointing towards the Temple, Derek waited only a moment to watch as eight more men leapt from the Brotherband and strode through the sand to follow behind him. Marching uphill, Derek let himself feel the pull of adrenaline and his focus come full turn as he lead the way.

It took mere minutes to reach the top of the sandy dune and another three before his feet felt solid marble. Men and women dressed in white robes flittered about, shouting, cursing and trying to reach some form of safety moved in front of him. Derek ignored the ones who flew out of his way and thrust his sword into the belly of those who did not, pushing their dead or dying bodies away in the same breath.

“Move!” Erica roared, rushing to stand by his side. “Leave now, or die!”

Most of the white robed Trojan’s fled in pure fear, but one or two still tumbled their way to their deaths. Pushing through and into the Temple’s main hall, Derek did a quick scan before sending Erica and her men into the building.

“Black Wolf,” Isaac called from the entranceway. “Soldiers are making their way here.”

“Your staff.”

Holding the long-spear in one hand, Derek judged the distance and the aim before throwing it sharply.

~*~*~ _I’m with you_ ~*~*~

Riding hard, Jackson led a group of men towards the Temple of Apollo. The temple was not only sacred, but Stiles was still in there along with a number of priests, priestesses and common worshippers, who all needed protection. Squinting slightly against the sun it took in a long moment to realise just what was coming his way.

“Scatter!”

Kneeing his horse to one side, the long-spear whisked past him and into the horse behind bowling over one of his soldiers and sending the man careening into two others, even managing to unsaddle one.

“Together!”

Riding onwards, Jackson kept the tall figure of the spear-thrower in his line of sight until the man re-entered the temple. Gritting his teeth, Jackson ploughed ahead, forcing his men to get back in formation and prepared for the fight to come.

~*~*~ _Whenever you tell_ ~*~*~

“He saw it,” Isaac spoke with a slight awe in his voice.

“Rare in a man, but decent in a soldier,” Derek replied unfazed.

“These men think that their God with protect them, don’t they?” Eyes lowered in sadness, the blonde sighed at the pool of blood already forming around the entrance to the temple.

“No God will interfere in a human life. They made us to disregard us, nothing more.” Turning, Derek swiped the head of Apollo from the great statue standing in front of the marble building. Waiting a few seconds, Derek huffed. “See? No one has struck me down. They don’t care. Now come.”

Nodding, Isaac followed his Alpha into the temple where Erica was barking orders at anyone still standing.

~*~*~ _My story_ ~*~*~

Sliding gracefully off of his horse, Jackson checked his weapons and them his men, signalling for them to walk in silence as they progressed up the marble steps. Motioning for six of his men to creep up to the open ledges on the left side of the temple and then for six men to creep up the right side while keeping the remaining five with himself as they moved carefully towards the entranceway.

Blood drops were scattered here and there, with several priests and priestesses’ bodies strewn across the marble with no care taken to them. Careful to avoid the bodies, Jackson made sure each of them were in deed dead before making his move.

Rushing to stand with three on each side of the open doorway, the Prince waited for any noise to make itself known. When nothing could be heard, Jackson nodded slightly before taking the first step into the shadows of the temple’s main hall. More bodies were heaped here, almost as if they had been killed en masse although the positioning suggested otherwise, and there were no bloodied drag marks to indicate anything else.

Acknowledging the open ledges where his twelve men waited, Jackson pushed further inwards.

“I think you’ll find yourself surrounded, soldier,” a woman’s voice called out.

Snarling, the Prince raised his sword only for several enemy soldiers to rush out from the pillars holding the roof up and take out his men, leaving only he alive.

“Who are you?” Jackson called in a commanding tone.

“The Wolf-Pack. And today we serve the Argents,” a blonde man spoke from his left. The man’s blade was coated in blood, yet he looked like he’d merely taken a short stroll rather then killed anyone.

“And tomorrow?”

“A good question, if useless,” the woman spoke again. Leaning her head to one side, she revealed herself to be on his right side, blade drawn and dripping more blood than the blonde mans.

“It might be useful to me,” Jackson intoned.

“Not if you’re dead,” the blonde man spoke in good humour.

“He lives.”

Taking half a step back, Jackson viewed this new speaker with wariness. The man was tall, lean, dark and the one to have thrown the long-spear he was sure. This new man was dangerous.

“Why?” the woman asked in surprise.

“Because, that would make _her_ happy. And I don’t want her happy if I can help it,” the dark man replied never taking his eyes off of Jackson. “Go, leave. We’ll fight again soon, and one of us will die then – though I think I know which one of us that’ll be.”

“This is the Temple of Apollo. When I go, please, do not desecrate it any more than you already have,” reluctantly putting his blade away, the Prince stood tall once more, grey-blue eyes sharp as he viewed the man before him.

“I cannot promise that. However, if any priest or priestess lives then I will let them go free.”

“Thank you.”

With the slightest of nods exchanged between them, Jackson stubbornly turned his back to the raised blades and walked calmly out of the temple and back into the sun.

“He’s got balls,” Erica commented, smirking.

“He’s a Trojan Prince, isn’t he?” Isaac asked.

“Yes. He is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all the readers and reviewers! And to all those who left Kudos! They really made my day!
> 
> Hopefully the next part with be up much sooner, and I apologise once again for the delay. *Bows*


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS, NOR DO I OWN TROY OR THE SONG “Remember Me” BY JAMES HORNER, CYNTHIA WEIL AND JOSH GROBAN.
> 
> The song 'Remember Me' will be used as a page cut.
> 
> This is just part one, which is inspired by pilka3331's pic on deviantart.com. The link is here: http://pilka3331.deviantart.com/art/You-are-my-peace-372328830
> 
> I would like to sincerely apologise for this taking so long to get up, but my life has this bad habit of getting in the way. Anyway, hopefully the next part will be up much sooner!
> 
> Thank you to all readers, reviewers and Kudos leavers! It's always appreciated!
> 
> Thank you!

**Troy**

**Part 3**

The Trojan Prince was only a speck in the distance when Derek emerged from the Temple again. He had stayed true to his word, allowing the few that lived to go in peace - if not in terror from the fierce and malicious smirks Erica and Isaac had sent their way - and out the back way of the Temple.

Shading his eyes from the light of the sun, Derek looked across the beach seeing the Argent fleet still coming onto the sand, most anchoring out in the sea itself while smaller ships brought men ashore. His own men had begun setting up huts to one side, but Derek did not yet see his uncle or sister. Ignoring the decapitated statue to his left, Derek made his way to the rest of his men.

"Sir!" Isaac nodded as he approached the blonde. "We found something in the Temple which might interest you."

"Oh?" Arching one brow, the Alpha turned to face the direction Isaac had pointed in. His other eyebrow followed when his eyes landed on a hut. _His_ hut. "Worth that much, is it?"

"We think so," the  blonde replied, now looking slightly unsure of himself.

Nodding his reply, Derek walked towards his tent hearing a feint heartbeat but not really putting that down to anything in particular - after all it could be any of his men performing a task. Lifting the cloth door to one side, Derek's eyebrows rose once more at the sight of a white robed _boy_ laid out over his bed, unconscious.

"How is this interesting?" The Alpha asked, more annoyed then curious.

"His eyes."

"His... eyes?"

"They _glowed_."

" _Our_ eyes glow," he deadpanned, not really seeing where this was going.

"Not like _his_. _His_ glow _white_ and he said that we were going to bring the horse," Isaac shrugged, biting onto his lower lip. Shifting his weight from one side to the other the younger werewolf tried not to step back at his Alpha's annoyance.

"A horse? We didn't bring any horses," the older werewolf spoke, confused.

"That's why he's interesting."

"Alpha!" One of the crew of _Brotherband_ called.

"Yes."

"The Argent King has sent a summons. He wants to see you and Sir Peter in the meeting room," the young soldier informed him.

Growling his reply, Derek cast one last look at the sleeping priest before letting the cloth fall back into place.

~*~*~ _Remember, I will still be here_ ~*~*~

The meeting place is on an Argent boat just slightly off shore and within the upper cabin. The room itself was quite large and the windows were draped closed with the Argent banner hanging behind Gerard who was sat in his seat like a throne. To each side the Argent Generals bickered back and forth, while Derek and Peter sat at the end ignoring the rest of the room in favour of their own thoughts.

"Enough!" Kate lashed out standing up. "Your childish bickering is getting us no where! We have the beach, and now we must take Troy!"

"Easy, now," Gerard chuckled darkly. "We have the beach and we must ensure that we _keep_ the beach. _Then_ and _only_ then do we take Troy."

"Troy is a vast fortress. It has remained impenetrable since the day it was completed. Once the gates were closed, no one gets in, no one gets out," Chris sighed, sitting back. "Add to that the fact that they have an internal supply of food and water, they can last for over ten years without ever having to leave."

"So, we're just going to wait here for ten years until they open their gates back up?" One of the Generals asked, surprised.

"No, we break the gates down," Gerard smiled.

"With what?" Chris asked, one brow raised. At that, the King nodded towards his only daughter.

"With the Wolf-Pack," Kate smirked.

At this both Derek and Peter began to take an interest in the discussion.

"They will force their way in like the savage beasts that they are," she continued.

"Will we now?" Peter arched his brow.

"Yes, you will," the blonde replied darkly.

"And why do you think we'll obey?" Derek glared.

"Because I _own_ you," she glared back, with all the deadly beauty of a siren.

"And we have your little wench. A prize, I presume?" Gerard grinned darkly, motioning to a guard at the door. Nodding in return, the guard stepped aside so that two soldiers dragging a young boy in white robes walked briskly down the centre of the room. Throwing the boy to the ground, the soldiers stepped back.

Eyes widening only slightly, Derek let his eyes wander over the now awake priest. Soft skin, dotted with moles, short cropped hair and two eyes like melted chocolate and honey mixed together. Beautiful, but with no sign of the strangeness that Isaac has previously spoken of.

"One of my men found him. I have no claim over him," Derek dismissed. If letting the boy go got rid of that infuriating smirk, then he was more than happy to live up to his reputation.

"Then _I'll_  keep him. He's pretty enough," Kate smirked down at the boy.

"I've seen better," the boy glared in return, eyeing her up carefully.

**SLAP!**

"How _dare_ you!" the blonde raged. "I will not be spoken to like that! Not by anyone!"

"Is that all?" Peter asked, ever the gentleman.

"Go. Ready yourselves, because you _will_ be getting through that gate," the King replied, smirk still in place.

~*~*~ _As long as you hold me_ ~*~*~

"We need a form of offense, Councillors," the Trojan High Councillor spoke above the murmuring of officials.

"Once again you underestimate our defences, High Councillor," Jackson retaliated. He glanced over to the empty throne, a well of sadness bubbling inside at the thought of his family's grief. Stiles had been missing and presumed dead two days now with no hope in sight. "We just have to make sure that the doors to Troy are next to indestructible and we'll be safe. We can wait the Argent army out. They'll starve long before we do."

Since the Temple of Apollo had been desecrated, the entire city had gone into lock down, and the King had taken to his chambers and had since drunk himself into sleep, neglecting his duties and leaving Troy in Jackson's and Scott's hands.

"Still, if we could just-"

"No! The Walls of Troy are well manned and the doors are firmly sealed. This matter is closed. Now if that is all, gentleman? I have matters of state to attend to," standing from his seat to the left of the throne, Jackson swiftly made his way to exit.

"We can finish this without having anyone die, Jackson," Scott's voice rang out.

Sighing heavily, the blonde turned to his younger brother with a shake of his head. "As I told you last night, no. And it's hasn't changed - nor will it!"

"But a single combat would end this! And since I started this war it should be me who fights!" Scott tried to reason. Standing now as well, the brunettes eyes held firm with the belief that he could win and that this would right the wrongs done by him. "This is my fault. I should be the one to right it."

"You didn't kill Stiles, Scott. The Argent's did. And they'll kill you too! You didn't see them, you didn't _fight_ them! _I_ barely came back alive!" Moving to place a somewhat awkwardly comforting hand onto Scott's shoulder, Jackson whispered, "Stiles died because of _them_ , so stop blaming yourself. _I_ went to protect him, and _I_ failed. His death is more on me than on you. Now, go be with your wife, and enough of this single combat nonsense."

Shaking his head in anger, Scott brushed off Jackson's hand storming out of the chamber without another word.

~*~*~ _In your memory, Remember me_ ~*~*~

"How was it?" Lydia asked without turning away from her bronze mirror.

"The High Councillor still wants to go on the offense and Scott has now brought up his stupid idea in front of the court!" Running his hands through his hair, Jackson flopped onto their bed letting out a growl in frustration.

"He won't win, you know."

"I know! That's why I told him, no!"

"Allison seems to think that he's going to do it anyway," the strawberry-blonde intoned finally turning to view her husband.

"Idiot."

"Maybe we should let him fight," Lydia uttered, brushing a stray strand of hair off of her face.

"What? Are you insane?" Sitting straight up now, Jackson stared almost dumbstruck at his wife. "Am I the only one who can think straight? I know that Stiles going missing is a big deal - he was my brother, too! - but we have to be rational."

"Scott is a much better fighter than you give him credit for. He _might_ win."

"You just said he wouldn't!"

"Yes, right now, duh," shaking her head. "But if you help him, he might just stand a chance. And he's going to do it anyway." Turning back around to face the mirror once more, she sighed gently. "He still won't win, but he might live."

"Like I don't know that," Jackson groaned letting his face fall into his hands.

~*~*~ _I am the one voice in the cold wind_ ~*~*~

Standing in line, Erica yawned not-so-discreetly as she viewed the scene before her. The majority of the Argent army was stood to attention with Gerard, Chris and Kate at the front. The Pack were positioned to the left of the flanks, and so far no orders had been given. Yawning once more, the blonde Wolf shook herself out waiting for something - anything - to happen.

"Stop fidgeting, Erica," Derek spoke quietly enough so that only the wolves could hear him.

"Sorry, sir. But what exactly are we waiting for?"

"Kate to keel over and die screaming," Peter smirked speaking equally quietly.

"Peter," Derek warned. "We're _here_ to fight if the Argents call on us to."

"Which they will," Isaac intoned.

"And when exactly will the fighting begin?" Erica asked, raising one eyebrow.

"When Gerard starts it," Derek replied.

~*~*~ _That whispers, and if you listen_ ~*~*~

"Open the gates!" Scott hollered as he stood ready to fight whoever would be the Argent champion. Walking through the narrow gap presented to him, the brunette gulped as he viewed the vast army all stood to attention, the gate closing behind him. Stopping several feet away from the now closed gates, Scott stood as tall as he could, chin held high.

"I am Prince Scott of Troy. Choose your Champion to fight me in Single Combat. Whoever wins will win the war," keeping his tone even, Scott _almost_ sounded commanding. Internally he thanked Jackson for the quick training his brother had put him through last night.

"Very well," Gerard shouted back, his booming voice matching the smirk upon his face. "Derek?"

Glaring at the Argent Leader, The Black Wolf's face twisted in disgust before he took a single step backwards. The Prince's blood would not be drawn by him. Glaring right back, Gerard snarled, "Peter!"

Smirking, Peter glanced briefly at his Alpha before taking one step back to stand by his nephew's side. Following suit, every Wolf stood back glaring at the Argent Commander.

A flicker of hope began to stir in Scott's gut as the most powerful section of the Argent Army took a single step backwards despite the Kings command.

"Unable to find a Champion, Your Majesty?" Scott asked politely.

"Ennis!" Kate barked.

The tall, bald man stepped forward from the right ranks of the Argent army, all muscle and scars. Walking past the King and his generals, Ennis drew his sword, grinning manically at his much smaller opponent.

Gulping once more, Scott kept his feet firmly in place, never breaking eye contact with the giant the young Prince shifted his weight enough to slightly ease the tension in his body as he tightened his hold on the hilt of his sword.

Bending slightly, Ennis ran at the brunette, sword held tightly in his right hand and slicing horizontally. Scott barely dodged, whipping his own sword in a diagonal cut and missing the larger man by millimetres. Circling each other, Scott scanned Ennis looking for any openings or weaknesses and disappointingly finding none. Sighing internally, the Prince decided to take the initiative.

Leaping forward, Scott spun on the spot with his sword held at elbow length, just managing to slice through Ennis' arm drawing the first blood, springing backwards lightly, the brunette kept himself out of the other mans counter-strike.

The soldiers on the walls of Troy cheered as the Argent's soldiers blood pooled to the sand beneath. Kate snarled, clenching her fists in anger.

Not letting the blow interfere, Ennis ran at Scott once more, this time bowling the younger man over and slamming them both into the ground. Kneeling over Scott, the larger man began to punch into the brunettes chest, letting his sword fall to one side. Gritting his teeth, Scott used his left hand to fend himself while bringing his blade with his right hand up and slamming the hilt into Ennis' side.

Pushing with  the force of the hit, Scott rolled the two of them over, so that he was now kneeling over the larger man before swiping at Ennis' neck letting a gush of blood spurt forth. Leaping backwards to more cheers from Troy and complete silence from the Argents, the Prince back-peddled slightly, hope rising for the first time since the fight began. Ennis had been wounded, but was it enough?

Falling to his side, Ennis forced himself to his knees, growling and glaring at the younger man, one hand covering the gash which was still leaking blood. Pushing off from the ground, the giant leapt forwards, hands poised like claws, trying to rake at Scott. Stepping into the lunge, Scott pierced the soldier through his abdomen, letting Ennis' momentum carry him further onto the blade.

It took no more than eight seconds for the light to leave the bald man's eyes, and for just a moment, Scott was sorry for it. War was ugly, and cruel. And it was only now that he was beginning to realise just how much another man's death could not make up for Stiles'.

Scott gently laid the now dead man's body onto the warm sand, pulling out his sword as carefully as he could, he wiped the blood off onto the ground before sheathing the newly cleaned blade. Standing tall, but sad, the Prince locked eyes with King Gerard's.

"I have won, Your Majesty. It is over."

"Never!"

With an ugly snarl, Kate quickly drew her bow and notched an arrow sending it flying in the brunettes direction. Despite trying to evade the shot, it struck his leg sending him tumbling to the ground.

"Oath breaker!" The soldiers of Troy cried out in anger.

The gates of Troy opened just enough for Jackson to rush out and grasp his brother's arm, lifting him to his feet and yanking him back through the gates.

Cursing all the way, Jackson handed his brother over to the High Priest and medic, Deaton, before marching up the stairways to the walls parapets overlooking the Argent Army. The Army itself was now marching onto the walls - with only one group on the left flanks march _away_ , Jackson noted absently - despite the fact that the walls were neigh on impenetrable. Naming them all for fools, Prince Jackson gave the order for the archers to let loose sending over a thousand arrows into the oncoming army, with every arrow hitting its mark.

Looking down, the blonde could see Kate rampaging as the Argent army met nothing but hard stone, and being able to do nothing else but roar. Shouting over the mass of noise, Gerard commanded the army back and onto the beach, seemingly not at all angry at the arrow his daughter had shot. _The dishonourable git_ , thought Jackson, glaring.

~*~*~ _You'll hear me call across the sky_ ~*~*~

Grinning internally, Derek marched his Wolves back to the huts ignoring the smirk playing on his uncles face.

"Well, that went well," Peter practically cowed.

"She's really ticked!" Isaac grinned, feet bouncing lightly. "Although what she did was horrible!" he finished frowning.

"What did you expect? She doesn't know the meaning of honour," Boyd uttered, breaking his silence for once.

"Yeah, but the Prince won fairly!" Isaac continued.

"What does that matter? All she's going to come back with is that _we_ didn't fight, and she'll say that that was why she lost," Erica explained, irritated.

"Either way, we don't fight unless it's in our interests, and right now, it isn't," Derek informed them. The Black Wolf knew that there would be consequences for defying the Argents so openly, but he wasn't about to lose one of his men if he could, and as yet he didn't know the true skill of the Trojan's. The younger Prince needed a lot of work yet, but with time he had the potential to be the best, and after already having seen the elder Prince... well Jackson would certainly be able to hold his own.

"We'll attend Ennis' funeral. He was never our enemy, and he died doing their bidding. The least we can do is honour his death," Derek said as they left the walls of Troy behind them. "But we can forget the others who fell today. There were idiots and none of our concern."

"How cold, nephew," Peter smirked, placing a sarcastic handover his heart. "I hope you won't feel that way about me."

Huffing in amusement, Derek neglected to answer.

~*~*~ _As long as I still can reach out_ ~*~*~

Hours later, when the Apollo had pulled his sun out of the sky and Nyx had set in the night, Derek was summoned before Gerard and Chris. Alone.

Not letting any emotion show, the Wolf bowed slightly before waiting for one of the two men to speak.

"You should have fought for us today," Gerard began sipping heavily from his golden chalice. "You could have finished this, and now we'll have to lose men until we win."

" _You'll_ lose men until _you_ win. The Wolves won't fight unless _I_ tell them too. And for the moment, I have no reason to," Derek replied as stoic as ever.

"Then we'll find a reason," Chris spoke. He looked tired and Derek understood that the only thing Chris wanted out of this was his daughters safety, but it was _his_ war to fight - no one else's.

"How about that wench of yours, huh?" Gerard spoke up.

Raising an eyebrow in return, the warrior shook his head.

"Kate's had him. Why would he be of use to me now? _If_ I had wanted him in the first place. One of my men had found him, that's all."

"She hasn't touched him," Chris informed them when Gerard looked his way. "She said he was too talkative for her liking."

"There you go! You can have him back. How about that?" The King laughed.

"And where is he now?" Derek asked, trying to sound disinterested.

"She gave him to the men," Chris replied, looking guilty.

~*~*~ _And touch you_ ~*~*~

Stumbling to the ground, Stiles tried to get his sense of orientation as a hand grabbed his wrist harshly enough for it to bruise his pale skin, which then yanked him into the man's chest.

"Ooh! He _is_ pretty!" The man hollered at his friends.

Kicking the man between his legs, Stiles pulled away as the man gasped in pain only to be grabbed and lightly groped by a second man.

"Feisty, too!" He cackled. Trying to wriggle away, Stiles tried to prevent a panic attack as two more men attempted to grab his legs.

Getting ready to aim another kick, Stiles found himself suddenly falling to the ground as a roar was let off, the men who had attempted to rape him stumbling backwards themselves.

A gentler hand wrapped itself around his un-bruised wrist and tugged him lightly to a broad, black plated chest. Looking up at his saviour, Stiles found himself letting out a sigh of annoyance as he came face to face with the Black Wolf.

"So you _do_ want me then?" He slurred. Blinking, the brunette realised that his lip was bleeding which was messing with his ability to speak.

"Not really," Derek replied. Sweeping the younger man up and into his arms, the Wolf glared at the attackers before turning around and making his way to his hut.

"You'll stay in my hut since it's the only safe place for you now. And you _will_ obey me," he instructed.

"Says who?" Stiles slurred back, still not really understanding that he was being carried _bridal-style_. "I obey Apollo, and sometimes my father. Not you."

Growling, Derek's eye twitched, already wishing Isaac had never found the boy and brought him to _his_ tent.

"You will now."

"Uh huh. Right. Okay. We'll talk more when I can talk more. By Apollo's light! My face hurts!" Stiles grumbled against Derek's shoulder where his head had flopped when he had been lifted. "No funny business until then!"

"I thought you weren't going to talk?" The older man growled softly.

"I'm not. Now stop making me talk," the priest mumbled back.

"I wasn't!"

"Whatever."

Gritting his teeth in anger, Derek briefly debated dropping the boy right then and there, but since he was nearing the huts, and Stiles _was_ his responsibility, he pushed on.

Within a few minutes the he was stepping under the cloth door and gently placing the semi-unconscious priest onto his cot. The boy was lucid enough to let out a soft cry of pain as several bruises were pressed into the straw mattress, but otherwise mercifully stayed quiet.

Filling a small bowl with salt water, Derek sat on the bed, dipping a clean cloth into the liquid and then lightly pressing it to the boys split lip.

"You fought with courage," Derek murmured.

"Even a dog has that kind of courage. And I am much more than a dog," Stiles glared back. Taking the cloth from the older man's hand, Stiles pressed the salt water further into his wound wincing slightly at the pain.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Although... I should thank you for saving me. I won't because you got me into that situation in the first place. First by raiding the shores and destroying the Temple, then by letting one of your men knock me unconscious just to have be dragged about until that bint called a woman tried to make me her plaything, and then she gave me to those disgusting idiots!" Stiles fumed, his words sounding less slurred. "So, I should thank you, but I won't."

"Do you enjoy provoking me?" Derek growled.

"I'm not provoking you, I'm telling you the truth!" Slumping back into the cot, Stiles let his eyes flutter closed for a few moments before renewing his glare. Glaring right back, Derek stood to make his way out, wondering why he bothered.

"Thank you."

The words were quiet but audible. Pausing a moment, the Black Wolf nodded without turning before walking out of the hut and into the night.

~*~*~ _The I will never die_ ~*~*~

At some point in the night, Derek had come back to find Stiles asleep and the bowl of salt water sat on the floor. He had thrown the slightly blooded water out onto the sand and undressed before laying down beside the cot. Arms crossed behind his head, he let Stiles' heartbeat lull him into sleep.

Wakening slowly, Stiles turned onto his side, the pain much less now that he had rested, even if only for a while. Eyes searching the darkness, his eyes landed on the body sleeping soundly beside the cot. Honey coloured eyes narrowed as he spotted the sheathed dagger just within arm's reach on the slab of stone which was neatly placed beside the bed.

Carefully picking the blade up, Stiles took care to slowly draw the blade so that he would make less noise. Dropping the sheath onto the bed, the priest prayed for forgiveness as he moved to press the sharp edge against the older man's neck. Clenching his jaw, Stiles hesitated only a moment before putting his weight onto the hand holding the dagger.

Grabbing Stiles' hand, Derek's eyes flew open and his grip prevented the blade from moving any further. Yanking the younger man so that Stiles was draped across his body, Derek growled, letting his eyes glow red.

"If you're going to do it, you should just do it," he growled.

"Is it so easy to kill for you? Is it so easy to kill a man?  Even your enemy?" He whispered back.

" _Especially_ my enemy."

"Then I pity you. For what kind of heart would kill a man without a thought to his life."

"Spoken like a true priest. I am a warrior, boy. We don't have that luxury, or time." Tugging gently on the wrist holding the knife, Derek growled once more. "So, you've had your thought. Kill me."

Gulping, Stiles shook his head. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't take a life. Apollo had given him his vision, given them the light to live by, so who was he to take a life? To take someone else's light? And the life of the man who had saved him, circumstances be damned?

"No. I can't."

"Then don't blame me for what comes next."

Leaning up, Derek's lips found the younger mans, and as he felt Stiles gasp he lightly pressed his tongue into the brunettes mouth. Groaning into the kiss, Stiles let Derek take control. Pulling back, the Black Wolf locked eyes with the now blushing priest.

Letting the blade slip from his fingers, Stiles lets the other man push him back onto the bed. Hands forced to each side of his head, his breath quickened as he looked deeply into eyes that were flickering between hazel and bright red. Chin still tensed, Stiles didn't move as the Wolf's face came closer until their noses were brushing lightly.

"Last chance to kill me, boy," Derek growled, his eyes not leaving the honey ones below him. The dagger lay on the mattress - barely within Stiles' reach, but possible - where the priest had dropped it, yet he made no move.

"Why not kill _me_? Why let me live? What am I to you?" He questioned instead. His heart raced with every breath that the man above him took and Stiles found it hard to focus on anything but the well toned naked body laying over him.

"I don't know." Letting the silence envelope them, Derek let go of his left wrist to pull at the ties on the younger mans robes. "But you've missed your chance."

Smashing his lips onto Stiles', the dark haired man worked the top robe apart revealing pale, perfect skin stretched over a taut, slim waist. Letting his hand molest the younger man, Derek vaguely noted that his skin was just as soft as he had first noticed back when Kate had dragged him into the Argent war-room.

Kissing back just as fiercely, Stiles let his lust overtake him. He had wanted this man, this beast since Derek had saved him, and who was he to deny his own body? Was Apollo not about fulfilling every enlightment? So why should he not have this, this last little ray of light in an otherwise black time?

With his free hand, Stiles grasped onto Derek's hair, moving their mouths together so that when he opened his mouth the older man would have better access. Slipping his knee between the younger mans legs, Derek let his hand continue pulling at the others clothes so that the material ended up bunched over two mole-speckled hips.

Pressing his body more firmly over Stiles', the darker haired man rutted lightly against a perfect, pale thigh, his tongue exploring deeper as the brunette let out a moan of pleasure. Pushing his hips upwards to meet Derek's, Stiles slid one hand to grab at the Wolf's shoulder as a flush of heat took over him.

"Beautiful," Derek whispered, pulling back enough to pepper kisses along the priests jaw and throat.

"Not really."

No more words were exchanged as Derek moved both his hands to hold Stiles' legs apart so that he could fit neatly in-between them. Sliding himself forwards, Derek pressed his hard shaft against the younger mans and began a slow, rough pace so that the two rocked together, with Stiles' hands grasping at him for leverage.

Using his knees to grip at Derek's sides, Stiles bucked upwards as he tried to increase the friction between them, however, Derek simply grasped his hip with one hand to steady the younger man and keep to his rhythm. With his other hand, the Wolf grabbed for a small oil bottle - that he always stored under the straw mattress for this very purpose - and flicked off the lid. Lightly dipping a finger into the liquid, Derek pressed his digit to the priests entryway, circling smoothly before pushing in to the knuckle.

Pleased at the mewl that left Stiles' lips, Derek twisted letting their joint hips control the rhythm until his inner walls relaxed enough for a second digit to join. Gasping, Stiles kissed along the stubbled jaw, nipping at the other mans neck as the lubeless second finger granted a kind of blissful friction to the rocking.

Grinning slightly, Derek pulled back so that he was sat up looking down at the younger man - who still had his legs wrapped around his waist - and picked up the oil bottle.

"Just relax," Derek murmured, pouring a little of the lubricant over his fingers and then a little more over the priests entryway.

Nodding his reply, Stiles let his hands fall to either side of his head as Derek worked three fingers into him. Stiles would be the first to admit that this was not how he has expected his life to had gone. When he had first come to accept his gift of foresight, he had decided to dedicate himself to helping those who needed it most, and that had led him to the Temple of Apollo - the God who had given him his foresight in the first place. As a priest of Apollo, Stiles was required to follow certain oaths, one of which was celibacy. And although  he had not officially taken that particular oath, he was and did expect to keep it.

But now with Derek in front of him, and about to be _in_ him, he was grateful to Apollo for letting him have this without having to break a sacred oath. With a quiet groan, Stiles bucked into the other man's touch, letting a wave of pleasure course through him. He needed this. He didn't know how or why, but he knew that he needed this. And he needed Derek.

Satisfied with his preparations, and no longer able to contain himself, Derek viewed his handiwork and the beautiful body he was about to enter. Stiles was much leaner than his clothes lead to believe, his moon kissed skin almost illuminated in the small firelight filtering in through the window from the small bonfires on the beaches. The moles dotted over the boys face led a trail downwards, dusted over his shoulders, down his chest and abdomen, over his stomach and flowing down his long, long legs. A flush had overtaken parts of his upper body, blending in with the bruising which was now making itself evident along his face, sides and chest.

Leaning forward, Derek softly kissed Stiles, charily lining himself up and then in one swift movement thrust himself inwards, opening up the boy beneath him completely, and only stopping when he was in to the hilt.

Grasping at the older man's shoulders once more, the honey eyed priest let out a cry containing both pain and pleasure, as he tried to force the man further into himself. Nipping lightly at Stiles' shoulder, Derek pulled out slightly before bucking back in, setting a steady pace.

For Stiles, with the mounting pleasure - thrust by almost agonizingly short thrust - he didn't last long before his orgasm raked over him quick and heady, his seed spurting over his stomach as his inner muscles clenched around the thick shaft within him gaining a guttural moan from Derek. Changing position only slightly, so that Derek's hands were holding down Stiles' wrists with Derek leaning over him, Derek quickened his pace thrusting in much more ruthlessly then before and taking longer strokes.

Soon Derek was growling lowly, lustily, his eyes blood red and his teeth elongated and his seed spilled into Stiles. It took only several more thrusts for the Wolf to finish before his snapped his hips once more, pushing himself inwards as a last spurt filled the younger man.

Rolling them both to the side, Derek cradled Stiles in his arms, letting his heartbeat steady and remaining firmly inside of the younger man.

"Your name," Derek mumbled against the honey eyed mans soft hair.

"Stiles. It's Stiles," he replied breathlessly.

"Stiles. Pretty."

"Not really."

Huffing in amusement, Derek shifted slightly on the cot earning a soft moan as he fell into sleep.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is at last!
> 
> The final part before the Epilogue.  
> Thank you so much for staying with me this long and thank you to all reviewers and Kudos givers!
> 
> Thank you!

**Troy**

**Part 4**

He was dreaming again. Except, he wasn't.

/ _It was on the beach._

_The horse stood tall, dark and beautiful. The waves almost fell at its feet as it just stood there in all its glory. The sun shone brightly, causing its mane to glisten almost like oil. Then the sun turned red, and suddenly the waves were washing up bodies and staining the sea red with blood._

_The sky darkened and then Derek was there, blood streaming down his face, chest and legs. Looking up at the horse, Derek look pained and tired. The horses shadow began to engulf the Wolf, creeping over the blood coated sand and killing everything in its path._

_Derek fell. Dead._ /

Coming back to himself, Stiles tried not to scream out as the final image seared itself into his mind. Looking around the small hut, his took deep breaths telling himself that the vision was just that: a vision. It hadn't happened yet, and it could still be changed. He just had to get Derek away from the beach. Derek _couldn't_ stay on the beach.

"Stiles?" Ducking into the small space, the Black Wolf looked at him in worry. "What's wrong? Your heartbeat's too fast."

"Leave. We have to leave. _You_ have to leave," he replied, fumbling to stand, his limbs getting caught up in the furs laid over him. Rushing to catch the priest, Derek cradled the younger man as he tried to make sense of his words.

"Leave? Where? Why?"

"Anywhere! It doesn't matter! You can't stay!" Grabbing the older man around the neck, Stiles pulled him as close as he could, afraid for this man. This man who he had somehow began to fall for.

"Stiles, I'm here because of the Argents. I can't just leave," Derek reasoned, stroking the honey eyed mans back in a soothing motion. Nudging Stiles face up with his nose, Derek lightly kissed him trying to ease his burden if only for a few moments. "Besides, whatever you think is so bad here, I assure you that I am far more dangerous and no one will or _can_ get to me."

"The horse can get to you! The horse will kill you! Please, Derek! Please," Stiles pleaded peppering the stubbled jaw with kisses.

"The horse? Stiles, there is no horse! They couldn't survive the journey here, it's too far. Even Gerard didn't bring his."

Shaking his head, Stiles just continued to hold the Wolf close.

~*~*~ _Remember,_ ~*~*~

Kate was pacing back and forth, spinning a hoop-hilted dagger between her fingers. She was obviously irritated, and Derek knew that he was in trouble if she decided to play her ultimate card. Gerard sat on his 'throne' flipping through a small brown leather book. For once, Chris wasn't present, although Derek was slightly put out by this since he usually looked to the General for any form of sense.

"You summoned me?" Derek spoke, voice devoid of emotion.

" _You_! You were supposed to fight!" Kate raged.

"No, I was supposed to get us into Troy. Killing the pup wouldn't have gotten us beyond the walls, but I did get a closer look at how the gates were opened and their walls defences."

"And did you find a way in?" Gerard asked, leaning forward.

"No. But I know that we can't get in through the gates unless someone opens them from the inside," Derek spoke recounting what he saw. "The walls are well manned and they have enough archers to take out over five hundred of us in a frontal attack. The only way to beat them would be to get those gates open."

"And we can't do that without someone on the inside!" Kate spat. Derek merely shrugged having no answer. "You disobey me again and I'll take your little whore and slit his throat open! Then I'll start burning each of your Wolves one by one alive!"

Eyes glowing red, Derek bared his teeth seething. His family had died that way, and he had been too young to do anything about it. Now though, now he was old enough, _strong_ enough to do something about it.

"Fight for us, Derek," Gerard spoke before the Wolf could make any move. "Fight and we all win."

~*~*~ _I'll never leave you_ ~*~*~

The Trojan Council had come into session sometime ago, the Councillors still demanding to fight. Jackson glared in pure anger, he had already lost one brother and when Kate had gone back on her word he had almost lost his second. He would not risk another Trojan on some stupid attack when they had the advantage.

"They will not leave! They have no honour! You saw! You all saw as she put an arrow into Prince Scott's leg! We can't let them stay on the beach!" The High Councillor cried standing from his seat letting his hands and arms speak with him.

"And the moment we open the gates, they will kill us all," Jackson spoke, bringing a silence to the room. "I will not let another Trojan be hurt or killed because you think they can outlast us."

"You yourself said that the walls of Troy were not indestructible. How long until they find a way in? All they need to do is get one man in to open the gates," one of the lower councilmen spoke.

"Which is why all the routes in and out of Troy are either closed or under heavy guard. We are as safe as we can be for the moment," Jackson continued, rubbing his nose in annoyance.

"And how long will the moment last, Your Highness?" The High Councilman asked.

"As long as it does."

~*~*~ _If you will only_ ~*~*~

Silently cursing, Jackson crawled along a small dune which looked over the beaches. Below the Argent armies slept, taking turns to keep guard - although why confused the Argent soldiers since they believed that Troy could only be accessed from the gates - all of them ignorant to the 'master' plan that Jackson had been forced to help with. When the councillors had refused to back down, and with the lack of the King's input, Jackson was outnumbered. So, he had taken control of the mission and made the appropriate adjustments for them to succeed with little to no casualties.

Nodding to his second, Jackson watched as barrels were tipped over to let vats of oil slip downwards and towards the Argent camps. Glancing out to the huts which were positioned some distance out Jackson wondered for a moment if they could send a barrel hurtling that way, but he knew that they just didn't have the time.

Sending a second signal, all his men retreated back a ways until they were far enough to escape the heat that would soon blaze but close enough for when the fight began. With a third and final signal for this part of the plan, Jackson watched as a fire arrow flew through the air and landed straight into the heart of the fuel.

With a pretty, white blaze the beach flared up setting the entire place alight. And that was when the screaming started. Men began rushing about screaming, shouting and trying to themselves out. The fire spread quite the distance, letting smoke billow upwards. It was a win for the Trojans, and Jackson just hoped that it would be enough to keep the Council happy for a while.

Pulling back, the Trojans unsheathed their blades waiting for the fire to run its full course. It took almost twenty minutes before he heard the first command, and that was when the fight began.

Rushing down the dunes, the Trojan soldiers silently started to take out the Argent soldiers one by one. However some of the Argents were coherent enough to fight back despite their initial surprise.

With the smoke continuing to raise, it was a good enough cover for the Trojans to back out and return to the secret passage in the walls without being seen. He already knew without having to count that he had lost some men over this, but it was already done and he had done what he could to keep the losses to a minimum.

~*~*~ _Remember me_ ~*~*~

Coughing lightly into his hand, Stiles watched as the sky darkened above him momentarily from the black smoke that was still running its course across the beach. Most of the tents were blackened and shredded from the fires that had overtaken the camps the previous night, and even the huts nearest to the walls had taken a hit with three of them charred and collapsed.

"Stiles!"

Turning to watch the curly haired warrior rush over to him, Stiles smiled at the earnest look on his face.

"Yes, Isaac?"

"Are you okay?" The blonde asked, coming to stand beside him. The young man always seemed earnest to Stiles and he found it quite endearing.

"I'm fine. How are you and the Wolves?" He asked in turn.

"We're okay," Isaac shrugged. "The ones who slept in the burnt out huts will just double up with other wolves. We prefer to be close anyway."

"I _am_ sorry for any harm that's come to the Wolves. It is the Argents my family hate," Stiles sighed sadly.

"And for good reason," the blonde uttered darkly.

"What happened?" Stiles asked quietly.

Shaking his head, Isaac motioned to further up the beach. "Derek wants to speak with you." Giving a strained smile, the curly haired warrior turned to speak with other Wolves.

Raising an eyebrow, Stiles shook his head in kind before walking in the direction Isaac had indicated. Taking his time, the priest looked out to the ocean on his right. It glittered beautifully despite the hundreds of ships still floating out a ways, the sunlight allowing him to see the various sails and flags hoisted to show the varying factions fighting under the Argents.

Nodding to some of the Wolves, Stiles smiled at the small amount of peace he had been afforded here. His visions were scarce now, and while this was a gift in itself, it was also a curse in that he _needed_ to know what came next. And he _needed_ to know where the horse would come from.

"What's wrong?" The Black Wolf asked, frowning at the crease in Stiles' forehead.

"Nothing. You wanted to see me?" the priest smirked.

"Come, walk with me," Derek grasped the other man's hand in his tugging lightly as the taller man led them up the beach. "The real fighting began last night, and it's only going to get worse."

"I know. But I cannot say I mourn the Argent losses," Stiles seethed.

Smiling lightly, Derek glanced at the younger man, pleased with the healing bruises and the pretty amber eyes drawn in concentration. "We don't mourn them either. Kate Argent owns us in a way, and it was too risky for me to fight her at the beginning."

"And now?"

"Now..." Derek sighed. "Now I watch closely for a way out. But the only way out I've been able to find so far is for myself, and I will not leave my Wolves to die at her hands."

"You are a good leader," Stiles smiled, tightening his grasp on Derek's hand lightly.

"No. A good leader would have gotten us out of her clutches long ago," he uttered darkly.

"You all have such dark moods today. And here I am! Basking in Apollo's light!" Stiles laughed dejectedly. "Whether or not you deem yourself a good leader is of no matter. It is what your Wolves believe, and from what little I know of them, they love you too dearly to doubt your leadership."

"You praise me."

"No, _they_ do. I think you're an idiot for not seeing a third option."

Raising an eyebrow in annoyance and curiosity he waited for Stiles to continue.

"Well... your first option is to die. If you really believe that Kate has such power then you will die in her service, _for_ her. Your second option is to die. To free yourself and your Wolves from her by yourself will lead to your death, and theirs."

"And the third option?"

Stopping, Stiles waited for Derek to pull up beside him watching him with a stern brow. Staring at each other for what felt, to Derek, like a lifetime Stiles finally replied.

"Come with me."

"What?" Having been thrown for a loop the older man stared incredulously at the younger man.

"Come with me," Stiles repeated.

"Where? You're a prisoner here, Stiles. Or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten," the priest answered angrily. "But I _do_ know this lands better than any. Even my Father."

"So you want us to take off into the sunset? And never look back?" Derek almost laughed his felt that the entire idea was so ridiculous.

"No! The sunset is beyond the ocean, the way that you came from," Stiles ground out, annoyed. "There are secret passageways into the city. Passages that only _I_ know of."

"And you're so sure that you're the only one to know them?" Derek asked, only curious now.

"Yes."

With the hand still grasping Stiles', Derek pulled the younger man in for a long and heated kiss. Letting his hands roam, Stiles grasped at the thin black fabric of the Wolf's garb pulling the man closer as he let his tongue clash with Derek's.

Pulling back after a few moments, they viewed each other through lust hazed eyes.

"Would Troy accept us?"

"Yes. Especially since you have so far refused to fight."

"A third option? Maybe Apollo is real after-all."

~*~*~ _Remember me..._ ~*~*~

The early hours of morning show grey skies and light rain settle over the beach. It was the perfect cover for the small group of Wolves and a priest to sneak up the sand and to the Temple of Apollo. Once inside, Stiles led the way out of the back of the Temple and down a slanted rock ridge. There was a steep gap and a narrow ledge, but it was safe enough for the sure footed to cross.

Grinning all the way, Stiles' heart was alight with hope and love for the first time since the initial attack on his home. Perhaps now the Horse would not come.

Creeping to a large crack in a wall, Stiles silently beckoned for the Wolves to follow him. Sliding neatly through, he walked without light until a stone corridor opened up before him. Stepping to one side, Stiles waited for the last Wolf to enter before grinning broadly once again.

"It's long and dangerous, but it works," he smiled.

"Whereabouts in Troy are we?" Erica asked, looking around her with her Beta eyes ready.

"Inside the Temple of Poseidon. It's much smaller than the Temple of Apollo as Troy worships the Sun God first, but Poseidon is still held dear to many here due to the closeness of the ocean. Come, we need to reach the palace before the day finishes breaking."

It was a long and weary walk for the Wolves as they left the relative safety of the Temple - with many of the Wolves feeling guilty for desecrating the Temple of Apollo - and made their way through the backstreets of Troy. Derek took his time positioning every building and statue for future reference while still keeping his keen eyes on every movement in the city.

There were many guards stood about, watching them keenly, but making no movement as Stiles waved to a few in silence, giving off a smile here and there for reassurance. It was not too long before they reached the stairway to the palace.

Heaving a great sigh at the sight, they began to ascend.

"It's so quiet," Isaac whispered, scared and wary.

"That's because most people are still asleep. There is no need to fight until sunrise and that is another three hours away. Everyone will awaken in half an hour to ready themselves," Stiles explained taking hold of the blonde haired man's hand and squeezing gently. "But don't worry, my father or brother's will still be awake. And Royal of Troy is always awake no matter the circumstances."

"Speaking of which," Derek spoke nodding towards the tall figure stood at the top of the stairway.

Grinning madly, Stiles let go of Isaac's hand to bound up the rest of the steps and into his brothers waiting arms. Holding each other tightly, Stiles felt Jackson sigh in relief against him.

"You're home," the elder Prince whispered against his shoulder.

"I'm home," Stiles returned. "And with help."

Pulling back, but with their arms still around one another, Stiles smiled at the Wolves still walking towards them. Jackson look darkly at Derek remembering the man and what he had done, before glancing at his brother's soft smile.

"Why have you brought them here?" He asked finally.

"They need a home. We need great fighters. And I need Derek," Stiles replied quietly.

Raising an eyebrow at that, Jackson shook his head and wondered how they were going to explain this. Then Jackson shook his head again, grateful for the remainder of his family to be returned safe.

~*~*~ _Remember, I will still be here_ ~*~*~

"Aarrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!" Kate raged, throwing brass plates and goblets at the walls their deep **clangs** doing nothing to calm her. "Those! Those! Those treacherous, disgusting, vile dogs!"

Watching his daughter practically destroy his small 'throne room', Gerard fumed quietly trying to plan around this new development. With the Wolf Pack gone and a sixth of his army dead, he would have to be clever. Far cleverer than he had been so far. Oh, how he hated the Trojan's.

"I am going to burn every last one of them! I am going to rain my vengeance and fury onto to them so hard that their pleas for death with not be heard by Hades himself! They shall be granted no mercy! And I will have their skins as a winter pelt!"

"Yes, yes, death is too good for them now. They will never receive their coins for the underworld for the underworld will never know of them," Gerard drawled, fingering a goblet of wine with one hand. "But first we must get to them, and get into Troy."

"How do you expect us to do that? We don't even know where the Wolf Pack has gone, only that they are gone," Chris spoke from his seat in a corner. He was not impressed by his sisters antics and he was so tired of this war now. Too many lives had been lost and he knew that it was likely that he would never see his daughter again. Not even giving her the grace of a look, Chris just kept his sight on the small toy in his fingers, a small wooden horse that he had carved for Allison when she was still a young child and his wife still lived. "Perhaps we should leave."

"Leave? Leave! Are you mad? We have to kill them all!" Kate fumed, spinning to face him.

"For what? Allison is never coming home. And we can never get beyond those walls as we are," he reasoned with a sigh.

"Is that hers, Chris?" Gerard asked, nodding to the small toy. Nodding his reply, he lifted it for his father to see.

"I whittled this just before the battle of Athens many years ago."

"A horse," Kate sneered.

"A horse," Chris bleakly smiled back.

"A horse..." Gerard mused, smirking. "Just like that idiot boy said."

"What boy?" Kate asked, eyeing the King. The old man only smirked in return.

~*~*~ _As long as you hold me_ ~*~*~

Many skirmishes occurred over the next three days, the Argent army rushing the walls of Troy with tall ladders and poorly constructed towers on wheels in failed attempts to breach the walls. The three Princes looked on in suspicion, but Jason merely thanked the Gods that Stiles was home safe and his people were safe behind the walls too.

But the poor attempts did not sit well with the Prince's of Troy.

Then on the dawn of the fourth day, the Argents left. Leaving behind nothing but a huge monument made from the wood of the boats that brought the Argents to the Trojans shores.

"The horse," Stiles whispered. "It's the horse."

"It is for Poseidon, son," Jason spoke, resting a hand on his son's shoulder. "They wish for it to help them have a safe passage home."

"And it will bring our doom," Stiles replied. "Although I do not yet know how."

The horse bothered him far into the evening, when a few select soldiers rode out to view it. Standing atop of the wall Stiles watched as the riders got ever closer to Troy's dark fate.

"It's just a horse, Stiles," Derek spoke wrapping his arms around Stiles' slim waist. Kissing down his neck, the taller man let a hand wander onto a clothed thigh. "Come on, let me relieve you of any stress."

Turning around in Derek's arms, Stiles allowed the kiss too melt over him, letting himself fall deeper into the embrace, before pulling away gently.

"It is the dark horse that I have feared for some time now, Derek. And I still don't know how it will destroy us, but it will. It's shadow will encompass us, and it will drain us of our light and life."

"Stiles, it is a wooden horse. How much doom could it bring?" The Black Wolf asked with some scepticism.

"It will kill you, Derek. I saw it," the priest spoke quietly and with a wisdom far beyond his young years making him seem ancient and distanced from the world.

"It will take more than a horse to kill me, Stiles. It will take much, much more," Derek replied keeping his horror behind a mask. Holding Stiles' face in his hands now, Derek kissed the amber eyed man gently, lovingly, trying to reassure him where his words could not.

"Promise me... promise me you won't go near it," Stiles begged, eyes closed and forehead resting against the older mans. "Promise me."

"I promise."

Smiling in some relief, Stiles kissed the Wolf once more, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck. "Good."

"Come to bed, Stiles. Let me keep my promise," Derek smirked. Smirking right back, Stiles let him do just that.

~*~*~ _In your memory_ ~*~*~

Much against Stiles adamant words and against Jackson's wishes, the horse was rolled into Troy and placed directly in front of the Temple of Poseidon where a great festival was to take place.

The day turned to night and the festivities eventually died down somewhere around the nights zenith and the people of Troy slept with peace and no fear as they felt the win deep in their hearts.

It was a young, impressionable Argent soldier that first slipped out of the wooden horse and treaded lightly towards the gates of Troy. Matt was almost delirious in his adoration for the female Argent General, so much so that we was willing to do anything for her.

Once Matt was safely out of sight, more soldiers, including Kate herself slipped out of the horse and began to slit the throats of those lying around in case they awoke to sound the alarm. Grinning madly to herself, the blonde woman steeled herself for the real fight that was to come. She knew that Derek would be a difficult fight, but she had her ways, and she had already killed his family. So how much harder could the last pup be?

Keeping an eye on the west tower above the gates, she waited for the flaming signal to show that Matt had done his task, and the torch was lit only minutes later. With an evil smirk, she got to work.

Beyond the walls, Gerard stood in full armour silently signalling the Argent Army to move the moment Matt had given the signal. As the first lines of soldiers approached the large doorway, the door opened up before them with barely any noise due to the well oiled hinges. Grinning at his luck, the King let his men call out for battle as they now rushed in killing all that were not Argent.

Somewhere from deep within the city, the city bells began to ring sounding the alarm.

"I told you!" Stiles muttered rushing to dress himself.

"I know!" Derek growled back, yanking on his armour. "Do you know another way out of the city?"

"What?"

"Stiles!"

"What! Yes! Why?" He said angrily.

Grasping the younger man by his shoulders, Derek made sure that they were looking eye to eye.

"Get as many people out as you can. Troy may be able to fight, and we might win, but it'll be safer for the people to leave now. Do you understand?" Derek tried to implore.

"Yes, I understand. I'll make sure they know. But you have to stay away from the horse, remember?" Stiles pleaded right back.

"I remember. And I will, but you need to go now."

Nodding, Stiles stole a quick kiss before racing out of their chambers and down the halls looking for his sisters. Left behind, Derek sighed deeply, hoping that that wouldn't be the last time that they saw each other.

Shaking the thought from his mind, Derek left to meet with the Wolf Pack. Killing every Argent soldier he met, the Alpha cut open throats, stabbed through armoured chests and any exposed flesh before finding his grinning uncle.

"Well, now _this_ is a party," Peter grinned at him.

"It's a slaughter," Cora replied coming up behind the older Wolf, grim faced.

"And that's my kind of party," Peter laughed back with a wink.

"We need to regroup. No doubt Kate's here somewhere, and that means Chris will be too," Derek cut in.

"Gerard's leading the men!" Isaac called from a grassy area just outside of the palace where the three Hale's had made their way. "I saw him minutes ago!"

"Kate's gone to the Temple of Poseidon, and she has that sleezeball, Matt with her," Erica sneered. From Isaac's side. Behind her Boyd threw an Argent soldier into a group of oncoming soldiers knocking them all down.

"We need to stall them while the Trojan's finish getting themselves together," Derek spoke, taking command.

"So, it's just us fighting the hundreds and thousands of Argents then? What fun," Peter mocked.

Sending a dark look to his uncle, Derek shook his head.

"Stick together, and remember your training. Now, let's go."

~*~*~ _Remember_ ~*~*~

"This way!" Stiles called out. Behind him Lydia and Allison ran along with around twenty other Trojan's who couldn't fight - women, children, the elderly - as he moved through several dark passageways holding a torch up before him. Finally coming to a door, Stiles stood back as he opened it waving for his people to pass through. Turning to his sisters he grimly chewed on his bottom lip.

"Lydia, this tunnel will lead you out onto the plain-lands behind Troy. From there you can journey to Cyzicus and hopefully, safety," Stiles spoke handing her the torch. "You two need to get everyone there. Here," kissing each of their cheeks he smiled as brightly as he could. "I'm going to get father, Jackson and Scott once things have calmed down. So don't worry about us."

"Stiles, I can stay, I know how to fight," Allison said, courage filling her words.

"You can fight? Great! Then you can help protect the children. It won't be easy getting them to Cyzicus, and you'll need to hunt, too."

"Just get everyone out, Stiles," Lydia spoke, tears springing to her eyes. It was strange really, she was never really one to cry, but today that's all she wanted to do.

"I will." Nodding to the two, he let them pass before remembering. "Oh! And Lydia?" Waiting for her to look back at him, he smiled. "Troy's future rests with you even if you return." Nodding once more he ran off back down the now dark passageways.

"What does that mean?" The dark haired princess asked.

"I think... No, it couldn't..." Looking down at her stomach, Lydia's eyes grew with wonder. Shaking herself out of it after a few moments, she stood with her back tall and turned to leave. "Come on! We have a people to protect."

~*~*~ _When your dreams have ended_ ~*~*~

It very quickly became apparent to Derek that Troy was lost. Too many Trojan's had died in the initial attack for the remaining soldiers to be able to do much good. The only thought that kept Derek fighting was the knowledge that Stiles would be safe and that he could order his pack to leave after the priest when they absolutely had to.

Ducking a blade, Derek's eyes shone blood red as he sliced open the man's stomach and left him to die before cutting open a wrist and following with a slash to a second soldiers neck. Blood began to pool on the ground and it was some time before Derek realised that he had made his way into the centre of the city - right beneath the shadow of the giant wooden horse.

Glancing around, Derek realised that he had also been separated from his Pack at some point, but his Alpha senses allowed him the knowledge that they were still fighting some ways off to his right.

"You made a big mistake, Derek."

Turning slightly, the Black Wolf regarded the blonde General with hatred. Still strikingly beautiful, even coated in a thick layer of sticky blood, a few nicks here and a few bruises there the only evidence that she had fought without restraint, Kate stood sneering at him. She really was a despicable being.

"The only mistake I made was not killing you long ago," Derek replied. Bringing his shield up, the Black Wolf readied himself for the one fight he truly wanted.

Running at him, Kate swung low bouncing her sword off of his shield and following up the strike with a vicious thump of her own shield deflecting his own sword. Pulling back slightly, they circled one another for only a moment before their swords met in a spark of metal upon metal, Kate's sword sliding down until Derek threw the blade to the side pushing her with his shield and then slamming it into hers knocking her off balance for a moment.

Swiping at his feet again, Derek had to jump as she quickly recovered, following the downward swing with an upward one, connecting with his sword and being deflected once more.

Spinning to the side, shield held close to his chest and sword held straight out, Derek managed to nick Kate's cheek causing a small amount of blood to trickle down. Cursing in rage, the blonde thrust her sword straight at Derek's neck barely missing and swinging her shield against his repeatedly.

Taking one step back with  every blow, Derek gritted his teeth waiting for the opening that he was sure was to come. Pushing back with his shield slightly, Derek swung for Kate's neck letting her dance out of the way to that they were now standing with a few paces between them.

"Once you and your little pack are dead, I'm going to hunt down that whore of yours and he'll never know the mercy of death," she smirked cruelly trying to get a rise out of him.

"How can you do that when you're dead?" Derek bit right back.

With a snarl, Kate launched herself once more slashing with all of her might, pushing him as far back as she could before he pushed back. Using his shield to deflect her sword once more, he whipped it under her own shield and cut it off of her arm as he let go of his own. The two shields flew off with a loud clang falling to the dirt and stone pavements of Troy. Grunting, Derek thrust at Kate's newly exposed chest only for his blade to be deflected by her own blade.

Raising his sword for a downward slash, he finally saw it. As Kate rushed to take advantage of his momentary pause, she plunged at his side only for him to side-step and hack at her throat, his blade finally connecting with her flesh.

Stepping back, he watched as the blonde general fell to the ground clutching at her sliced neck which was spewing blood until she was no longer breathing.

Heaving a great sigh, Derek breathed heavily catching his wind before gasping out as a sharp pain sliced through the back of his ribs.

"No! No! She can't be dead! No!" Matt cried out, pulling out his sword.

Grunting in pain, Derek spun on the spot, sword aimed high and true, and sliced right through Matt's chest-plate. Watching the young man fall to the ground for only a moment, Derek stumbled forward for a few steps as his wound healed itself. It was never a pleasant experience as his muscle and skin stitching itself together _hurt_ , and it took a lot of his energy - energy that he did not have a lot of after his fight with Kate.

"That was my daughter you monster," Gerard called out.

Looking up, Derek wondered just which God he had ticked off today.

~*~*~ _Time can be transcended_ ~*~*~

Pointing at a group of women fleeing, Stiles directed yet another group of Trojan's to the escape route, all the while keeping an eye out for his father, mother-in-law and his brothers. His fear for them grew every second that he didn't see them as he ran throughout the city, corralling people to the cities exit.

"Stiles! What are you doing? Run!" Scott called out, finishing off an Argent soldier. Running over to his brother the darker skinned man grabbed his arm in alarm.

"I'm helping to get people out of the city. They need to get to the right passageway, and I'm one of the few people who know it. Don't worry about me, Scott," heaving a big breath, Stiles took a moment to look at the devastation surrounding him.

Many idols and statues had been dragged down into smashed pieces of stone, buildings were alight with fire and bodies and blood were littered everywhere. His people were dying, and there was little he could do beyond what he was doing.

"Have you seen Melissa? Or my father?" He asked.

Shaking his head 'no', Scott steered the other man to one side. "I can't find Allison either," he almost cried.

"She's fine! Allison and Lydia are leading our people out of the walls and to safety right now," Stiles smiled glad that he could bring some good news. Smiling wider at the smile of relief that crossed his brothers face, Stiles patted Scott's arm.

"That's great! Good. Now you need to leave too," Scott spoke hoping that he sounded somewhat commanding.

"Nope! No can do! I need to find my father and Melissa first. Look, don't worry about me, Scott. I can handle myself, you concentrate of staying alive, okay?"

"Fine! But you better look after yourself!"

"Yeah." With one last smile, the two Prince's went their separate ways, Scott to find Jackson in the midst of the fighting, and Stiles to the Temple of Poseidon where he felt his mother-in-law might've gone.

Rushing to the marble pillars, Stiles gasped for breath as he viewed the bodies littering the Temple steps, praying to Apollo that Melissa was alright. Bracing himself, Stiles entered the Temple hoping to find her still alive.

~*~*~ _I live forever_ ~*~*~

"Gerard," Derek uttered. "I believe that I just slayed the monster, or did you not see me cut down your daughter?"

"She should have killed you along with your family," the King spat snarling grotesquely. "Well, never mind. I'll do it instead."

Raising his two handed sword, the Argent King took a firm stance as he waited for Derek to rush at him. Except Derek took his time. Moving with all the grace of his inner-wolf, Derek held his sword steady at his side, weaving slightly as he looked for any openings. Seeing none at hand, Derek feinted to the left, before slicing to Gerard's right. The older man easily deflected the strike, curving his own blade in a wide arc. The tip caught Derek's empty hand leaving a searing cut.

Hissing at the pain, Derek waited a moment for it to heal only to realise that it didn't. Confused, but still focused, Derek shook his hand slightly.

"Noticed, did you?" Gerard sneered, smirking darkly. "This sword has been passed down from generation to generation. And each generation laces it with a powerful wolfs bane. If enough of it gets into your blood, you _will_ die."

Eyes widening only slightly, Derek gritted his teeth in agitation. He had to ignore the wound for now, which meant that he had to focus solely on the fight and not getting hit again. Balancing his weight, Derek took a breath to calm himself before focusing on the mad man in front of him.

Feinting once again, Derek spun so that he came up on Gerard's left side as he slashed out so that his blade once again met the old man's in a clash of steel. Spinning once more, Gerard had to move with him as Derek kept making feints and swipes to deflect the Black Wolf's sword. Derek's movements were a perfect combination of years of experience and his inner-wolf coming together as he pressed into Gerard over and over.

Finally getting a solid strike, Gerard stumbled back a step which left open a small gap for Derek to slice open the old man's thigh. Blood now dripped down onto the grass below them, but this did little to deter the Argent King. Instead Gerard pushed back harder, swiping in wide arcs until his sword sliced open a thin line across Derek's left arm.

Grunting against the searing burning sensation, Derek refused to let up, pushing and pushing despite a dullness that had begun to push at the back of his head causing him to become dizzy. Knowing that the wolf's bane was flooding into his blood and affecting his senses, Derek pushed himself to end this fight.

Due to the length to the Argent King's weapon, Gerard had a long reach so Derek couldn't go for any over or under cuts, and it was hard enough for a side cut to get past the old man's defence without the use of a shield - that he had flung to one side while fighting Kate - so that meant that he had to get clever.

Taking several steps back, Derek inhaled once before rushing for Gerard. Expecting the swipe to his chest, Derek rolled under the blade thrusting his sword to the side and finally connecting with flesh as he continued to roll out of the way.

Screaming in anger now, Gerard clutched at his hip for a moment before swinging frantically in Derek's general direction. Each swing was deadlier than the last and the Black Wolf found himself on the defence, hopping backwards one step at a time with no sign that the old man would let up anytime soon.

Keeping his back as straight as he could, Derek's vision began to blur and his hands began to shake. It was because of this that the next swing sliced through his side letting blood flow down his hips and legs. Stumbling to his knees, sword still held firmly in his left hand, Derek grasped the ground to leverage himself against the next attack.

"Agh!"

Confused by the sound, Derek struggled to look up at the scene before him.

King Jason Stilinski stood clutching his left side, a sword raised as he stood in front of Derek, protecting him. Stunned, Derek fell back onto his knees watching as Gerard threw himself at the righteous King only to be cut down in three well placed strikes. The Argent King fell to the ground, dead, not even able to gurgle on his own blood his death was so quick.

Turning only slightly, Jason viewed the Wolf before him with a humourless smile before dropping to his knees.

"No!" A young voice screamed.

Peering through the haziness, Derek could barely make out Stiles' form. Wondering just what the Hell Stiles thought he was doing still in the city and unarmed was beyond Derek's ability to think at that moment, but he was still happy to see the younger man.

"Stiles, you need to leave. You are the rightful heir to Troy, and our people need you, son," Jason gasped out, trying to hold himself together enough to get his point across.

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Don't die! Please!" Stiles cried, tears streaming down his face. He rushed over sliding to his knees between the two of them. Grasping Derek's face in his hands, the Wolf smiled as kindly as he could, only able to focus on those beautiful honey coloured eyes that so enticed him. "You promised! Your promised!"

"I'm.. sorry," he barely managed to croak out before falling onto his side.

Grasping at his rapidly cooling body, Stiles placed Derek's head onto his lap before leaning down to kiss him.

"Please don't leave me. Please," he cried again. "I love you."

"I.. Love you," Derek grated his voice barely a whisper. "...Sorry.."

Kissing Derek once more, Stiles' tears flowed freely as he felt the life finally leave his lover. Stroking the Wolf's dark hair, Stiles closed his lovers eyes for the last time, hunching over in heartbreak.

"Stiles?" Jackson called out rushing over to them. Seeing Derek's still form and taking in his step-fathers condition, Jackson knelt next to the King. "Father? What can I do?"

"Get him away from here," Jason spoke, resting a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "And make sure he takes this." Handing over his blooded sword he made sure that Jackson looked him in the eye. "This sword is the Symbol of Troy, it's valour, it's honour and it's power. It has been passed from King, to King and as long as a Trojan is holding it Troy will live. Protect him, Jackson, and protect yourself. You and your brothers are Troy, you three are its heart. So you _must_ live on. Do you understand?"

Nodding, tears began to spill over as he clutched at the blade, the full understanding of the situation setting in.

"Yes, father. I understand."

"Good. Now go. Take Stiles, and know that I love you all," Jason gasped out, his wound beginning to take it's complete toll. Nodding, Jackson rose and moved to grasp his brother's shoulders.

"Stiles, we need to go."

"Jackson?" Looking up at his brother with a broken gaze, Stiles allowed himself to be pulled gently to his feet. "Father?" Now seeing his father's condition, Stiles once more flung himself to the ground by his father's side. "You're leaving me too?"

"Not willingly, son. Never willingly," Jason smiled kissing his son's forehead. "Do as Jackson says now. Go."

Nodding numbly, the honey eyed priest let Jackson once again pull him to his feet a steer him away. Looking back over his shoulder, he shouted:

"I love you! And I always will!"

~*~*~ _Remember me_ ~*~*~

The last of the Trojan's sprinted through the doorway that led out of Troy. Standing to the left and urging the last group on Melissa stood with Scott worry and concern written across her face.

"There!" Scott called in delight. Pointing down the corridor, Scott spotted his brothers stumbling towards them. The darker skinned man's joy was short-lived as he saw the amount of blood spattered across his brothers clothes. "Are you two alright?"

"We're fine. We need to leave. Is everyone else through?" Jackson spoke giving a little push for Stiles to pass under the door frame and out of the passageway.

"Everyone except you and father. Is he coming?" Scott asked anxious.

Shaking his head in sorrow, Jackson silently beckoned the two through the doorway before closing it behind him. "We had... He... We are Troy now," was all he managed.

"Then we have to catch up with Lydia and Allison," Melissa spoke up, tearing slightly. "We can mourn the dead when we are safe."

Nodding to each other, the last of the Royal Family followed their people to the plain-lands and then onto Cyzicus.

~*~*~ _Remember me_ ~*~*~

Troy burned, bodies littered the city and pools of blood stained the pathways and gardens. Black smoke billowed out over the city and the remaining Argent soldiers ransacked what little was left. The night sky was filled with too many stars allowing light to show what the flames could not, throwing shadows across doorways and over once beloved possessions.

The only true shadow was cast by the great wooden structure in the center of the city shaped  like a horse. It's towering form stood over the Temple of Poseidon with a dark and powerful demeanor.

Breath coming in heavy gasps now, Jason viewed his once beautiful and rich city with a great well of sadness. Shuffling over to the Wolf's life-emptied body, the Trojan King patted Derek's shoulder sending a silent prayer of thanks to the God's for sending him to Troy and to Stiles.

Looking out once more at the destruction, Jason grieved for all that was lost.

~*~*~ _Remember me_ ~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to everyone to reviewed and left Kudos. It's always appreciated!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this and I hope that you enjoy the last bit: the epilogue!
> 
> Thanks again!


	5. Epilogue

**Troy**

**Epilogue**

The funeral pyres that stood along the beaches of Troy could be seen stretching from the Temple of Apollo all the way out to the in-coming tide. Each pyre was piled high with at least five bodies showing just how many had died for a cause that Chris was now against.

Since his father's and sister's bodies had been found among the dead beside the great wooden horse along with the bodies of the Black Wolf and the King of Troy, Chris was now left as King of the Argents and what was left of Troy.

And for the first time in his life, he wanted none of it.

His only positive thought was that his daughter's body had not been counted among the many dead, and that gave him only the faintest hope for a future.

~*~*~ _Remember...me_ ~*~*~

The trail that the Trojans were journeying over was not an easy one, but at least it was safe and full of game for them to hunt. A pretty river ran alongside them giving them enough to live off of until they reached their destination. Their current path was leading upwards and into the mountains which made progress slow going, but a few scouts were sent behind the line of Trojan's to make sure that they were not being followed.

Stopping for a moments rest, Stiles looked back down the trail and out towards the city that was no longer in sight. His heart was still beating painfully in his chest, yet a numbness filled his limbs and he dreaded the next night as it would be the first night without his father and without his lovers embrace.

Gulping back the lump that lodged itself into his throat, Stiles breathed as deeply as he could trying to get his breathing under control so that he wouldn't have another panic attack. He had already experienced one on his exit from Troy and he knew that he couldn't set them all back by letting himself fall into another.

"Hey," Isaac quietly spoke, taking his hand.

"Hey," Stiles spoke back, just as quietly. Squeezing the curly haired man's hand gently the Prince tried to smile but it just came out as a thin line.

"Will that end?" Isaac asked, pointing with his free hand and the black smoke floating far behind them.

"Eventually."

Nodding, their hands remained clasped as they both started back up the path nodding at the other remaining Wolves - Erica, Boyd, Cora and Peter - as they left a happier and more peaceful life behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it! All done!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it and I would like to thank pilka3331 once again for inspiring this with her great pic-manip.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with! *Bows respectfully*


End file.
